One morning in the elevator last week, there was an elevator technician riding up with me and a middle-aged woman. The woman was grilling the technician about the safety of the elevators.

Technician: They’re perfectly safe.Me: I got stuck in one once for 20 minutes.Woman: I got stuck in one for half an hour.Technician: But you didn’t get hurt, did you?Woman: I was mentally traumatized.

In other building news, the place I work may need a bigger office. There’s one vacant office directly above where we are now. My boss wants to have a hole cut in the floor and build stairs. Everyone else wants a ladder and a pole. That would be the coolest thing ever.

“Research has uncovered the quality of grace in hospital rooms, church sanctuaries, lovemaking, and cold drinks. Also in editing. When someone edits me, it is a duet, and they edit my eyes, polishing the lens, cutting out distortion. Good editors build the telescope that lets the reader see an author’s dim, small, distant glow.” — Paul Ford, Ftrain

Wondering lately what I should do with this page… I think I’m going through an apathetic spell…. or a fearful spell…. why say things aloud where people can hear them, when they can marinate in your head, I guess… for example, today’s secret thought: i just want to be one of the cool kids. Is it just D.C., or are all cities so clique-y that you need to know your scene, and the bars/clubs for your scene, and the music for your scene, and the stores for your scene…. I don’t have a scene.